


Are you scared? (because i am)

by Accidentalshipper



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Character Study, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Gen, Lena Luthor Needs a Hug, Post Reveal, Post Season 4 Finale, idk i just needed these two to talk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-04
Updated: 2019-06-04
Packaged: 2020-04-08 00:33:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19096123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Accidentalshipper/pseuds/Accidentalshipper
Summary: Post 4x22After his father is imprisoned, George Lockwood tries his best to spread words of peace and understanding and even lands a meeting with Lena Luthor. When he mentions his best friend Charlie, who lied to him about being an alien, he realises that he might’ve stumbled on a sore topic.





	Are you scared? (because i am)

**Author's Note:**

> I finally bit the bullet and worked my way through season 4 and I really needed these two to talk so here you go.

“I would offer you something to drink, but I’m afraid no one accounted for me having a visitor who isn’t allowed any alcohol,” Lena Luthor commented, strolling towards her desk.

George attempted a chuckle. It came out kind of forced. “That’s, um, fine. It’s fine.” He hesitated, looking around the imposing office and not for the first time this year felt like he was in way over his head.

George knew that what he was doing was important.

Speaking up, letting the people know that hearts and minds could be changed, letting the Children of Liberty know that their ideals had been misguided, that his father wasn’t really a saviour, just a very sad and hurt man looking for something to take his anger and resentment out on.

The press tour felt silly, but he _knew_ it was important.

So obviously, when offered the chance to have a public meeting with Lena Luthor, he took it. It would be the usual; shake hands for the camera, say a few words to the press and that would be that.

Except it wasn’t, because after the usual routine, Lena Luthor had invited him back to her L-Corp office and now he wasn’t sure what he was doing here. He shifted nervously in his chair, watching Lena Luthor take a seat across the desk.

“Is… is there a reason you, um, wanted to talk to me?”

“Yes.” Lena Luthor leaned forward, elbows on the desk and a serious expression. “I want to know if you’re okay.”

George blinked, confused, not just at the question but also at the melting of the always so stoic and immovable look on the face of L-Corp’s CEO. “What- what do you mean?”

“George, I know what it’s like,” she spoke, eyes soft and understanding. “I know how it feels to have your family turn out to be something you didn’t expect and to try to make up for their mistakes. But it’s not your responsibility, okay? You’re just a kid, you don’t need to feel like it’s your job to fix everything your father did.”

George was at a loss for a moment. “No, it’s… it’s fine. It’s totally fine,” he repeated, a harsh reminder of his limited way with words. It just wasn’t his thing, no matter how much public speaking he’d been doing.

It was always his dad’s thing.

“People need to know,” he forced himself to elaborate. “They need to know that it can be better and- and that my dad was wrong. It’s important,” he trailed off, looking down at his hands.

“I think what’s important, is that a kid who just lost both his parents isn’t left alone trying to do something so overly ambitious.”

George looked up, finding the woman giving him an understanding and almost _compassionate_ look, and he forcefully swallowed down the lump in his throat. Because real men don’t cry, that’s what gramps always used to say, and his father had been sounding so much more like him in the last few months. Then again, his father also said that Lena Luthor was a ruthless businesswoman who didn’t care about anyone and that all aliens ever thought about was replacing the human race. But here Lena Luthor was being worried about him and Charlie had _always_ been there for him, so what did he know?

“I’m not alone,” George answered, forcing a small smile. “I’m staying at my friend Charlie’s house. He had to kind of talk his parents into it, but he convinced them to let me stay in the end.”

“He sounds like a good friend.” Lena Luthor was smiling that soft smile, and George had to look at his hands again, because it had been a while since someone looked at him like that and all of a sudden he _really_ missed his mom.

“Yeah. He was the one who made me see it, that, um, that what we were doing was wrong. When I found out he was an alien I just… I don’t know, I just couldn’t keep going along with it anymore.”

“You didn’t know he was an alien?”

George frowned at the edge that seeped into Lena Luthor’s voice, as he shook his head.

“So he lied to you?”

George remembered reading once – in one of those stuffy books on his English literature list – something about ‘eyes teetering on the edge of darkness’. It was one of many fancy and nonsensical lines that literature books seemed to be filled with, but for some reason he thought of that particular one right now.

“Yeah, I mean, he kinda had to.”

Lena Luthor pursed her lips and looked away, and George didn’t know what to make of it. His concern only grew when he noticed a framed picture with the glass broken sitting on the edge of the desk and a half-empty glass of something that looked like strong alcohol standing on a small table to the side. He felt uneasy, but again, words weren’t his strong suit.

“Are, um… are you okay?” he tried.

Her eyes snapped back to him, her expression smoothing out unnaturally fast. “Yes, I’m sorry,” she chuckled dismissively, shaking her head. “I just can’t stand it when people lie to me.”

Again, George wasn’t his dad, so he didn’t always know what to say, or why Lena Luthor suddenly seemed a little bitter as she glanced to the side. But one thing was always there, the very thing that caused him to step away from his dad before it was too late: The urge to defend Charlie.

“I mean, I was mad at him at first,” George started unsurely. “But he was just trying to protect himself and his parents. You know with what my dad was doing and everything, it made sense he wouldn’t tell me. So… yeah.”

“So you forgave him?” Lena Luthor kept looking off to the side, her expression kinda sad, and George had no idea what was going on, so he just limited himself to answering the question.

“Of course. I mean, he’s my best friend, he always was. And like he told me, he was just afraid because of what my family was doing. So yeah, obviously I forgave him.” He frowned as Lena Luthor scoffed quietly to herself and shook her head, a sudden defensiveness creeping up on him. “You’re saying I… shouldn’t have?” he asked with a frown.

“No, George, I… I’m not telling you what to do,” Lena Luthor shook her head again, as if chasing off invasive thoughts. “It’s just that a lot of people have lied to me in the past. All I’m saying is that… if I _was_ in your situation, I’d have a hard time trusting someone like that again. That’s all I meant.”

George was confused now. First she wanted to make sure he was okay, and now she was saying stuff that made no sense about Charlie. It was all very awkward, but so was thanksgiving dinner every year, and his mom always managed to keep those conversations going.

_That’s what adults are supposed to do, right? It’s probably what I should do._

“It’s not…” George struggled for his words. And he knew he shouldn’t think like that anymore, but sometimes he really wished he was more like his dad. That he was better with words, that he would always know what to say. “It’s not about… trust,” George shook his head, trying to be all that he was supposed to be and just _use his words._

“What is it about, then?” Lena Luthor gave him that kind look again, the edge out of her voice, but she still seemed sad and almost curious what he had to say, and George forced himself to push through, to think.

What _was_ it about?

“It’s… about… not being scared,” George settled on, paused, thought about it, then nodded to himself. “If- if my dad hadn’t been so scared of aliens, then, um, none of this would have happened. And then Charlie wouldn’t have had to be scared to tell me and then I wouldn’t have had to be scared about standing up to my dad and siding with Charlie, so… yeah. It’s, um, about not being scared.”

“Good speech.” Lena Luthor gave him a small smile, but the sadness seemed less hidden than before and really, this whole conversation was confusing him to no end. “If you plan on using that, I’d throw a bit about honesty in there as well, though. If people can’t even manage that…” she trailed off, looking away again, that line about eyes and darkness popping in his head again for some reason, but suddenly George didn’t need to look for his words.

They were just there.

“My dad was honest.” George swallowed nervously at the raised eyebrow he got in response, but he didn’t look away. “He was very honest about everything he thought about aliens and it didn’t make him a good person. Just because, um…” George hesitated, but it was fine, everyone cursed and he was trying really hard to be an adult over here. “Just because you’re honest, doesn’t mean you’re not an asshole. And maybe Charlie wasn’t completely honest, but he’s always been there. He was the one trying to just stay alive and make everything better for his family and yeah, he didn’t tell me about this one thing, but he was one of the good guys. So, um, no,” George shook his head to himself, more sure of what he was saying. “It’s not about honesty, not at all. It’s about not being scared to do the right thing. Like not killing aliens who are just trying to live here, even if that’s what your dad says you’re supposed to do. Like hiding secrets from your best friend so your family will be safe.”

George nodded to himself, feeling like the shadow of gramps and his dad were looming over him a little less ominously.

“It’s about being a good man,” he decided firmly. “Or woman,” he amended, remembering who he was talking to. “Or alien,” he added quickly. Damn, this stuff was hard.

But all in all, he was kind of proud that he’d strung all that together, even though the point of this conversation wasn’t completely clear to him. But when he looked up, Lena Luthor’s chair was turned to the side and the woman was shielding her face with her hand.

He could still hear her cry, though.

“Wha-”

George stood up, not knowing what to do and his confusion growing, because something was definitely very wrong. His words were failing him again, but he didn’t want to stand there and do nothing because that’s what an asshole would do. And he really didn’t want to be an asshole anymore. So he shuffled to the other side of the desk, standing in front of a still crying Lena Luthor, but he didn’t know what to do or what to say. Because he didn’t know what you were supposed to do about grown-ass people crying, and quite frankly Lena Luthor was still kind of intimidating, but clearly he had to do something.

_What would mom do?_

He hesitantly stuck his hand out, patting the seated woman’s shoulder. “It’s, um, it’s okay. It’s gonna be okay.”

George had no idea if it would be, but what else was he supposed to say?

Lena Luthor straightened up, George’s hand sliding off her shoulder as she wiped at her eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” she huffed, shaking her head and trying to recompose herself. “I was supposed to be the one consoling you,” she huffed.

“It’s, um, it’s okay. It’s fine,” George repeated, because _stupid words._

He looked at the cracked frame on the desk, now having a good view of the three people in the picture from this side, and very slowly, the whole conversation they’d been having was starting to seem a little less random.

“Did, um,” George scratched his neck, nervous to overstep. “Did someone lie to you too?”

Lena Luthor huffed out a breath, glancing at the broken frame before looking up at him still teary-eyed from her chair, and suddenly she didn’t look that intimidating anymore. She didn’t even look all that ‘grown-ass’, really. “Something like that,” she muttered, before sliding the picture into a desk drawer, closing it quickly as if it was something shameful to have on display. “I was just… no, I- I still am very angry at her.”

George felt a little proud for guessing right, that maybe he was getting the hang of this, but he deflated at Lena Luthor’s defeated expression. “But…” he hesitated again, “you’re sad too.”

Lena Luthor managed a small smile and almost self-deprecatingly motioned at her face. “Obviously,” she huffed. “It’s just so hard to believe she would lie to my face all this time.”

“Well…” George was definitely still uncomfortable with the whole situation, but it felt like he was helping (probably) and that’s what this press thing was about; helping people. It wasn’t what he had in mind, but still. “I, um, was mad at Charlie too. But, you know, it was silly once I thought about it. It was obvious he had a good reason to lie to me.”

Lena Luthor’s jaw visibly clenched. “I think my case is different,” she spoke bitterly.

“Are you… I mean…” he hesitated, but damn it, he was supposed to help and now Lena Luthor looked sad again. “I mean… did you _ask_ her why she lied?”

“Well… no,” a hint of surprise shone through, almost as if that thought hadn’t even occurred to her. “I mean, my br-” she swallowed harshly, as if forcing down something disgusting. “Someone I knew, said she was toying with me. That I was being mocked. Being turned into a fool.”

“Did…” George realised he could be overstepping again, but he’d gotten this far, so just go for it, I guess. “Did one of those honest assholes say that?”

The laugh that Lena Luthor let out was loud and surprised, but inexplicably sad at the same time. “He definitely was an asshole, no question. I don’t think anyone ever knew what he was truly honest about, though.”

“So… why would you believe him?”

The smile on Lena Luthor’s face was back, that soft look returning to her still watery eyes as she looked up at him. “Has anyone ever told you that you have a way with words?”

The violent urge to burst out crying took George by surprise. “No, I…” he shook his head minutely, hating how every time Lena Luthor looked at him like that the hole his mom had left behind ached a whole lot more. “Never.”

Lena Luthor nodded thoughtfully. “Well, you do.” Her soft smile was still there, and George had to look away, because he really shouldn’t cry. It wasn’t right. “It’s too bad I have to disprove your previous hypothesis, though. I guess you can’t solve everything by simply not being scared,” she still smiled as she looked thoughtfully in the distance, a little less sadly than she did before.

“Well… I don’t know…” George stammered, still mostly busy swallowing down the giant lump in his throat. “ _Are_ you scared?”

The question wasn’t meant in any particular way. George was trying not to cry, because he shouldn’t do that. He was trying to keep the conversation going, because that’s what adults do. But clearly it was the wrong thing to say, because now Lena Luthor’s lip was trembling.

“Yes,” she whispered, her eyes fluttering as she looked down at the hands in her lap.

“Of- of what?” George asked automatically, because now he couldn’t keep his stupid mouth shut.

“Of how much I care,” she rasped, and oh no, now the tears were streaming again.

“I- I get it,” George stammered, scrambling to fix his mistake. “I cared about Charlie so much, I-”

“I really want to be wrong, I want there to be a good reason _so_ bad, but I’m just scared that there isn’t one,” she whimpered, almost as if she hadn’t heard George at all.

“I know!” he tried, because he had to fix this, he had to fix _all_ the sadness he’d caused the past year, it was all his fault. “I was terrified too, when I realised that I couldn’t be on both my parents’ and Charlie’s side!”

“And if it turns out she was never really my friend, I don’t know what I’d do because I can’t lose her too…”

“Yes, I know! That’s why I left, because I didn’t want to lose Charlie!”

“…and I just love her so much.”

“Yes, I love Charlie t- no, wait! What? No, I- that’s not- I didn’t-” George shut his stupid mouth and shook his head, his face heating up as he stepped back, because he hadn’t planned on dealing with _that_ today.

“Oh, George…”

She looked up at him, her avalanche of words finally forgotten as she gave him that soft and understanding look again and dammit, why did Lena Luthor insist on trying to make him cry?

“You’re still scared too, aren’t you?” she smiled tearfully.

George was fresh out of words, but Lena Luthor spared him the trouble of scrambling for new ones when she stood up from her chair and hugged him tight. He patted her on the back, because that’s what you’re supposed to do, because that’s what his mom used to do. But he still didn’t know if he liked it because, really, he never realised that not crying could be this hard. Still, he hugged her. Because hugging Lena Luthor back felt a lot like doing the whole press tour thing.

It was silly and kind of confusing, but he _knew_ it was important.

When he left the building, even with Lena Luthor’s number in his contacts and her promise to listen to any of his problems if he needed her to, he didn’t think that he’d talk to her after that. Really, he didn’t need to feel that confused again.

But then two months later, slumped shoulder to shoulder against Charlie on his couch, he spotted an online article about Lena Luthor and a mysterious blonde woman who she may or may not have gone on a date with. And George smiled to himself, because clearly Lena Luthor wasn’t scared anymore. He peeked to the side where Charlie was scrolling on his own phone, then swallowed as he turned back. Because maybe it was his turn now.

He was suddenly very aware of every inch where their sides touched, as he went through his contacts.

Maybe asking Lena Luthor to listen to his problems wasn’t such a terrible idea…

 


End file.
